


a matter of emergency (medicine)

by lyrically_lost



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, EMS AU, Emergency Medical Technicians, M/M, Rig Checks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrically_lost/pseuds/lyrically_lost
Summary: Eric Bittle, former figure skater, baker extraordinaire, and Rookie of the Year at the Madison Fire Department, joins the Samwell University First Aid Squad and finds himself a member of the weird and wonderful community that inhabits it. Follow his adventures in life and life-saving!





	1. Chapter 1

Eric stood in front of the building. He had to admit, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

There was a sign proudly reading “Samwell University First Aid Squad” hung over two bay doors, behind which two ambulances sat contently. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then Eric noticed the scribbles on the threshold of the bay doors. He thought it was dirt at first, but then he noticed the letters “AB” and the word “Shitty,” and the frequent appearances of both. He’d have to ask about those.

Eric rang the doorbell at what he assumed must be the entrance. A man with long hair and a mustache appeared and opened the door.

“Lards, I could’ve sworn I gave you a key,” the man said. Then he noticed Eric. “And you are not Lardo.”

Eric cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel his awkwardness. “Hi, I’m Eric Bittle, I’m the new recruit,” he said. 

“Oh, s’wawesome, brah! Come on in!” The mustached man held the door for him. “I’m Shitty, by the way.”

Eric blinked. “Pardon?”

“My name is Shitty. Well, it’s not my real name, but who cares, right?”

“Shitty” led Eric down a short hallway with a few doors, which eventually opened up into a crew room with two couches that had clearly seen better days and a TV. 

There were two more men in the crew room, sitting with their laptops. One was blonde and wearing glasses. The other was dark-skinned and wore a navy baseball cap backward, displaying the last name “Oluransi.”

“New recruit?” the blonde asked, acknowledging Eric. 

“Yup! I’m Eric Bittle, nice to meet you,” he said cheerily.

“You too,” the one with the baseball cap replied. “I’m Ransom, he’s Holster.”

It was at this moment that Eric noticed the kitchenette at the other end of the crew room. He rushed over and began poking through the cabinets, though his only findings were a bizarrely large collection of sriracha sauce, several boxes of stale pretzels, and three packets of Swiss Miss hot chocolate. He frowned at the dirty stove and the old oven, which looked like it wouldn’t even turn on.

“You poor thing…” he mumbled.

Eric didn’t realize it, but he had a bit of an audience.

“What’s he doing?” Ransom asked.

“Some kind of kitchen whisperer shit,” Holster replied.

“I wouldn’t bother trying to make anything in that oven,” Shitty said loudly, trying to get Eric’s attention. “It’s been broken since I started here.”

“Did you break it?” Holster asked.

Shitty shook his head. “Nah. I’ve broken a lot of things, but not the oven. That was Jess Wallace.”

“Of course it was Jess.”

In the amount of time it took Shitty, Ransom, and Holster to have that conversation, Eric now had a pie in his hands. The three of them gaped.

Eric looked sheepish. “Sorry! Sometimes when I’m in kitchens, pies just… appear.”

“Don’t be sorry, man!” Shitty said. He clapped Eric on the back with considerable force, causing him to jump. “That shit’s awesome.”

“Seriously,” Ransom said, mouth full of pie. “This thing is delicious.”

“Why thank you,” Eric replied.

The click of the door opening signaled the entrance of another person into the crew room. He was tall, with black hair and striking blue eyes. He had a radio on his belt and a navy polo with the squad logo on one side and “ZIMMERMANN, CAPT.” on the other.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said.

Shitty practically tackled the newcomer with a hug. “Jack!” he exclaimed. “You have got to meet the new kid. He got the oven to work! And made a fucking pie!”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Eric said, waving his hand dismissively. “You must be Mr. Zimmermann. I’m Eric Bittle. It’s nice to finally meet you in person!”

“You as well. And Jack is fine,” he replied. “Hopefully you weren’t waiting too long.”

“Not at all. I had just enough time to meet these three.”

Holster added, “And make a pie.”

“Well, I’ll give you a tour of the station, and then I can have you start your first rig check,” Jack said. Eric noticed he had a light, smooth accent.

Eric smiled. “Sounds good to me!”

Jack led Eric back down the short hallway. He pointed out a door on their right. “Here’s the office. You’ll probably only need to go in there for the mail slots.” He smiled slightly. “It’s also where you’ll usually find me.”

“Workaholic?” Eric asked.

Jack shrugged. “You’d be surprised by the amount of paperwork I have to do.”

At the next door, Jack said, “This leads up to the bunk room, but we don’t really use it. The bathroom is upstairs though.”

Jack held open the next door, which was on the left this time, and led to the bay. “And here’s the bay. We keep extra supplies in that back room over there.” He pointed to a door in the back corner. “And these are our rigs, four-two and four-three. I’ll go grab a form, and then we can go through a rig check on four-two.”

Eric nodded. Jack left momentarily, then returned with a paper on a clipboard and a pen. He handed those to Eric, then moved to the far side of the ambulance closest to them and opened a compartment. It was occupied by two large bags, one green, one red.

“We keep all of our bags in here. It should be labeled Exterior Compartment 1 on that sheet,” Jack explained. 

“So one of those is the jump bag and one is the trauma bag, and then there’s a defibrillator somewhere in there?” Eric asked.

“Exactly.” Jack pulled out the green bag. “This is our jump bag. It goes on every call. It has a little bit of everything.” He then proceeded to open up each compartment, explain what was in it and how it worked, and show Eric what he had to check on the form. 

After they finished the jump bag, they moved to the compartments inside the ambulance. As Eric counted a stack of nasal cannula, Jack asked, “Do you have your EMT?”

“Yeah. I have a Georgia EMT, but I don’t know if I need to do something for Massachusetts,” Eric replied.

“Georgia, eh?” Jack said. “Explains the accent.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Zimmermann,” Eric quipped. “Where are you from?”

“Montreal.”

“Huh, I didn’t know they had EMS in Canada.”

“It’s different from the United States,” Jack said. “But back to you and your certs. Do you pass the National Registry?”

“Yeah.”

“You should be able to apply for a Massachusetts EMT with your National Registry number.”

“Alright, good to know!” Eric poked through another plastic box. “You’re missing size 30 nasal airways,” he noted. 

“Good excuse for me to show you the storage room.” Jack led Eric to the back of the bay, where there was a small room lined with shelves, each filled with various plastic and cardboard boxes labeled with scrawled marker. “We have the shelves organized by purpose. So anything for airway and vitals is here, trauma is on the next one down, and anything else is up against the back wall over there,” Jack described. He tipped back a cardboard box on the first shelf labeled “Nasal/Oral Airways.” “You said size 30, right?”

Jack and Eric replaced the missing nasal airway and finished up the interior compartments, then moved on to the exterior. After Jack quizzed him on his knowledge of operating a stair-chair, Eric said, “You really love this, don’t you.”

Jack had a quizzical expression. “What makes you say that?”

Eric shrugged. “Just the way you talk, like when you’re explaining something.” He quickly amended, “But it might just be the accent.”

The captain smiled slightly.

They finished the rig check and made their way back to the crew room. 

Shitty sat up from where he was splayed on a green couch that looked disgusting. “And they’re back! Hope Jack didn’t bore you too much.”

“Oh, not at all!” Eric said. He turned slightly towards Jack and added, “I actually learned a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Jack replied. “You have to do two more before you can start taking calls, so you can come down any time I’m here. I’ll give you my number so we can coordinate.”

“Oh! Uh…” Eric ultimately settled on just passing Jack his phone with an open contact instead of saying a cohesive thought. Once he regained his phone and his composure, Eric said, “Well, it was nice to meet you all! Jack, thank you for the tour and everything. I’ll see you around!”

As Eric left, Shitty called out, “And hey, be careful! We want you working the box, not in it!” 

Eric just smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I had a few spare thoughts about how the Check, Please cast would make a hilarious crew, which were followed by me planning out a whole story surrounding it. This is that.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it so far, and thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Eric has been staring at his phone for at least two minutes now, the text sitting unsent. He knew there was nothing abnormal about texting Jack, he was just arranging when he should do his next rig check, but Eric was feeling incredibly awkward. Eventually, he sighed and just hit send.

“ _Hi Jack it’s Eric Bittle from the squad. Does Wednesday work for me to do my rig check? I’m really looking forward to riding!_ ” his message read.  


Jack replied a few minutes later. “ _I won’t be there on Wednesday, but you can still do your rig check with Andi, who’s the first lieutenant. And Shitty’s usually around, so it’s not all unfamiliar faces._ ”

“ _Ok sounds good! Thanks!_ ”

“ _You’re welcome._ ”

Eric flopped back onto his bed. He was kind of looking forward to talking with Jack during the rig check. Not in a weird way or anything, he just seemed interesting, and he was easy to talk to. But Eric still had one rig check left. And besides, if Andi the First Lieutenant was anything like the other members of the Samwell squad he had met, Eric was still in for an experience.

* * *

Eric stood in front of the station and rang the doorbell, just like he had a few days earlier. The writing on the bay door frame was still there; maybe he’d ask Andi the First Lieutenant about that.

The door opened, revealing a woman with warm eyes and dark brown hair curling around her shoulders. Her navy zip-up sweatshirt had “CAMPANELLA, 1ST LIEUTENANT” and the squad logo embroidered on it.

“You must be Eric, nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Andi, or Campy if you’re like B-“

She was cut off by the sudden appearance of Shitty. “Campy. Bro. I love you, but you do not just say my first name like that.”

Andi just rolled her eyes.

“Oh, ‘sup Bitty,” Shitty said to Eric.

He raised an eyebrow. “Bitty?”

Andi smiled. “Shitty gave you your very own nickname. You’ve been officially welcomed to the Samwell University First Aid Squad.”

Eric just accepted it. “Alright then.”

“Come on in, we’ll get you started on your rig check,” Andi said. “Which rig did you go through last time?”

“Four-two.”

“So we’ll do four-three. It’s one of those ambulances that looks like a van instead of the ones with a box, so the layout is really different,” Andi explained. “Honestly, I like four-three better, but most of the guys are so loyal to four-two they’d have me hung for treason.”

“Four-three is a piece of shit!” Shitty shouted, emphasizing Andi’s point. “It’s fucking ugly, and you can’t move without hitting your head!”

“It’s easier to drive!” the first lieutenant retorted.

“With your lead foot, maybe.”

“I’m a better driver than you are. You don’t see my name on the bay doors.” Andi crosses her arms for emphasis.

Shitty frowned. “Not cool, man.”

Eric took it as a good opportunity to finally ask. “What is with all the writing on the bay doors?”

“It’s the wall of shame,” Andi replied. “Every time someone hits something backing in, their name gets written on the frame. Shitty here is notoriously terrible at backing in, so his name is on there plenty.”

“Holster almost has me beat though,” Shitty pointed out. “All those AB initials are him.”

Eric laughed awkwardly. “Good incentive to pay attention when driving.”

“How are you as a driver?” Andi asked.

“I think I’m pretty good,” Eric replied. “I drove the engine a few times at the firehouse and never hit anything.”

“Oh, big shot fire department guy over here,” Andi teased. “You’ve definitely got nothing to worry about.”

“That’s reassuring.”

The first lieutenant turned to Shitty. “Hey, Shits, would you mind grabbing a rig check sheet for us?”

He said, “I want to say no.”

She grinned. “But you’re gonna do it anyway.”

“I hate you!” he called as he walked off.

“Quite a bunch of characters here,” Eric remarked.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Andi said with a chuckle. “We’re a bunch of weirdos, but you kind of grow to love it.”

Shitty then reappeared. “One four-three rig check sheet, _First Lieutenant_ ,” he said, dramatically handing the clipboard with the sheet to Andi.

She replied, “Why thank you, B-”

He cut her off. “Campy, c’mon.”

Andi rolled her eyes, then turned to Eric. “Bitty, let’s get your rig check going.” 

When she opened up the back doors, Eric’s first thought was _Wow, Shitty wasn’t kidding about the tight space._

The first lieutenant shrugged, seeming as if she had read Eric’s mind. “Climb on in. I’m right behind you,” she said.

Eric did as directed, finding a place to situate himself opposite the stretcher. He sat down, but his head wasn’t hitting the ceiling as he expected it to. “It’s not as small once you’re on the inside,” he noted. “A bit cozy, but not too bad.”

Andi, who had sat down on the stretcher, grinned. “I knew I liked you, Bitty!” she exclaimed. “So, say, if I got you on my crew, would you run four-three with me?”

“Say no!” Shitty shouted from outside the ambulance.

Eric shrugged but smiled at Andi. “Jury’s still out. I have to do my rig check first.”

“Fair enough,” she said. She flopped back down on to the stretcher. “Now, all the oxygen shit should be in that cabinet above your head.”

The entire rig check went in a similar manner. Andi, still laid out on the stretcher, would direct Eric toward a particular item, which Eric would pull out, show to her, and put back. It was a lot more freeform than the rig check Eric did with Jack, but it had more character. 

Andi told stories for certain equipment. Eric was checking the suction machine and she told about a crazy call she had last year with a drunk junior choking on his own puke. Eric grimaced. Shitty, who was sitting on the back step, laughed.

The mustachioed man also repeatedly argued with Andi over the location of certain items. 

“The EpiPens and glucose should be in this cabinet right above me,” Andi directed.

“No way, they’re next to the oral airways, on the other side,” Shitty said.

Eric checked both cabinets, then made a strained expression. “Shitty’s right. Sorry, Andi.”

It was the first time, so the first lieutenant waved it off. But then Shitty questioned four more items and was right with two. Andi got progressively more irritated with each one, which only made it funnier.

By the time Eric finished his rig check, which took way longer than it should’ve, all three EMTs were cracking up. Once he regained his composure, Eric said, “Thanks y’all, for the help and for the humor.”

“No problemo, Bits,” Shitty replied.

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you,” Andi added. “I’ll see you around, and when you’re getting out on a crew, ask for Wednesday! We’d love to have you.”

Eric smiled. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was drafting this chapter, I was debating changing the name of the story to "Rig Check, Please!" since it has been the main event in my first two chapters (and foreseeably the third). I eventually decided against it (and probably for the better).
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

Eric showed up for his third and final rig check on Saturday, after confirming over text that Jack would be there. He walked past the Wall of Shame on the bay doors, and found Jack, waiting with the door held open. They shared a smile as Eric walked in.

“Do you want to check four-two or four-three?” Jack asked.

“Four-three,” Eric replied. “I need practice with all those compartments.”

“Sounds good.”

As Jack and Eric worked through the jump bag, Jack mentioned, “So Andi’s taken quite a liking to you.”

Eric shrugged. “It’s probably just because I didn’t hate four-three.”

“She is very attached to it.”

“I take it you’re not a fan?”

Not really. The steering tends to be unresponsive, and I’m too tall for the back.” Jack smirked and added, “But I guess you didn’t have that issue, eh?”

“Oh, I’m wounded!” Eric exclaimed dramatically. Jack just smiled a little wider.

As they moved to the interior compartments, Jack asked Eric, “So what are you majoring in?”

Eric groaned. “Oh, don’t get me started. I’m not even thinking about my major until next year. What about you?”

“I’m a history major,” the captain replied.

“History, huh? I’m surprised it’s not something more medical-y.”

“I don’t really have an interest in medicine outside of EMS,” Jack said with a shrug. “But I am a huge nerd.”

“Oh really?” Eric said sarcastically.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Jack motioned to one of the cabinets. “How many NRBs do we have?”

“Three,” Eric replied. “How many should there be?”

“Six.” The captain sighed. “I bet Ransom and Holster were trying to cure their hangovers again…”

“Common occurrence?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Would you mind grabbing three more from storage?”

“Sure. The room in the back, right?”

As Eric looked through the storage room for a box with NRBs, his thoughts wandered. He was enjoying Jack’s company and guidance. They had only known each other for a little, but Eric felt like they had been friends forever. Granted, it could have just been his warm Southern nature.

“There you are.” Eric grabbed three NRBs from a cardboard box and brought them back to Jack, who was happy to have things restored back to order.

They finished going through the inside, then moved to exterior compartments. 

When they got to it, Eric pulled out and set up the stair chair. He was poking fun at Jack, who had quizzed Eric on its workings at his first rig check.

“Your coach, sir,” Eric said, motioning to the stair chair, covered in a pink sheet.

“Put that away,” Jack directed, but he was smiling.

They finished the rig check, then headed back to the crew room. A nondescript man clad in navy was sitting on the couch, holding a book titled “The Lyrical Guide to Fourth-Wall Breaking.”

“Hey, Jack. Hi, Bitty,” he said. 

“Hi,” Eric replied awkwardly. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Of course not,” the man said. “I’m Johnson. Current EMT and paramedic, frequent goalie, always metaphysical. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Eric turned to Jack. “Do you know what the status of the fridge is? I probably have enough time to make a batch of cookies if y’all have the materials.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said. “I doubt we have enough butter for baking. Or for anything.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to stock up next time I’m around.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh hon, it’s for me, not you,” Eric said. “Y'all have no idea how much butter I go through in a week.”

Eric and Jack chatted for a little longer, then Jack walked Eric to the door.

Before he left, Jack asked Eric, “Are you liking it so far? The squad, I mean.”

“Yeah, I am,” Eric replied. “I’ve only been around three times so far, but y’all are so nice, I immediately felt like part of the crew.”

The captain smiled softly. “I’m glad.” He added, “There’s an open spot on my crew, and it’s yours if you want it.”

Eric smiled back. “I’d love that, thank you.”

“I can slot you into the schedule around your classes, but for now, your first shift will be Monday, eighteen hundred to twenty-three hundred.”

“So, six to eleven? Sounds good,” Eric said. “I’ll see you then. Thanks, Jack.”

“You too, Bittle. You’re welcome.”

Jack held the door for Eric, who left smiling softly. Jack found himself mirroring the expression.

As he walked back into the crew room, Johnson said, “Keep an eye on him. There’s still a whole plot left to unfold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy EMS Week, everyone! Now's a very good time to show some appreciation for your EMTs and paramedics. Gifts of food are always a good way to go...
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
